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“Connor, you’re not okay.”
“I’m fine.” Connor growled for the tenth time that hour, as he angrily swatted at the gauze the android nurse – technician – whatever, was trying to apply to his bloody forehead. “I can catch him.”
Hank sighed heavily, something his lungs were getting far too used to doing. The pair had been out working a case, interviewing a potential suspect at the warehouse where he worked. They had been trying to track down an international Red Ice ring, and they had been getting pretty close. The suspect was smarter than he looked, however, and upon realising that Hank and Connor were onto him, seized a plank of solid, oak wood which was lying on the workbench next to him and as quick as lightning brought the improvised weapon down onto Connor’s head. The impact had been so hard the androids fucking skull had caved in. Such a blow would have killed a human instantly, but Connor was an android, ‘superior to humans in every way’. The blow had only caused his knees to buckle momentarily and Connor was soon in pursuit… until he ran face first into a steel beam. Hank would have found it hilarious if his partners head didn’t have a massive dent in it, and there wasn’t blue blood leaking from an alarming looking gash that disappeared into his hairline.
Initially, Hank had been concerned, he really had. The kid who he had come to think of as a son was seriously injured – at least on human standards – and that shook him for obvious reasons. But it quickly became clear that Connor would not listen to him when he told him to slow it down. Clearly both impacts had knocked a few screws loose (quite literally, perhaps) and he seemed to purposely disagree with whatever Hank was saying. It had been a two-hour long struggle to get the stubborn android into the car and to the repair clinic. Connor had fought him brattishly every step of the way.
“He has a concussion.” The technician concluded as he wiped the last of the thirium from Connor’s forehead. The dent was gone, but the android didn’t look any happier for it. Connor glared at him, and the technician glared back.
Hank raised his eyebrows. “Androids can get concussions?” He asked. ‘Superior to humans’, my ass, he thought.
The technician – Ron, his nametag read in big, bold letters, nodded. “If you can believe it.” He scoffed. “The bio-components that make up the android brain are very similar to a human. When they take a hard knock to the head, their actions mimic what we would call a concussion in you or I.”
“I’m an android. Androids are nothing like humans. I can’t have a concussion.” Connor snapped as he ignored Hank’s warning look. Ron didn’t seem like the nicest guy in the world, especially towards androids, and Hank didn’t particularly want to push his limits.
“Irritability is a symptom of concussion.” Ron continued, pointedly nodding towards Connor, who scowled. “It’ll pass as his healing programme takes care of it.” He tossed the blue-stained gauze into the trash can with a little more force than was probably necessary.
“Well, shit.” Hank commented, choosing to ignore the other man’s negative attitude and obvious distaste for androids (If that was the case, why become an android technician? The actions of humans would never cease to confuse Hank. At least androids, at their core, were a little more logical.) “So, what do we do in the meantime? Something tells me there aren’t any fancy android drugs you can give him.”
Ron shrugged as he slumped back down into his chair and pulled himself closer to his desk, his back facing both Hank and Connor. “Stay with him, I guess. Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. Get him to ‘rest’.” He surrounded the word with air quotes, and Hank had to bite back a distasteful remark. “It should clear up in a day or so.” He said, having a hand dismissively as he typed on his laptop with the other, a ‘fuck off’ gesture if Hank ever saw one.
He rolled his eyes at the back of the man’s head and swallowed a few choice words. Instead, he stood and made his way toward Connor, who was sitting on the exam table on the opposite side of the room. “Right. Cool. Thanks.” He said as he guided Connor onto his feet, where he swayed dizzily for a few moments before Hank grabbed a hold of his elbow to steady him.
“I’m an android. Androids are nothing like humans. I can’t have a concussion.” Connor repeated in exactly the same tone as before, which completely erased the meaning of his words. Now they were face to face, Hank could see the kid’s eyes were slightly unfocused.
“You keep telling yourself that, bud.” Hank said, voice wary, with a light, accompanying pat to Connor’s shoulder. “Come on, we’re going home.”
“Home?” Connor echoed as he stumbled out of the door after him. Hank quickly caught him before he barrelled headfirst into the doorframe. “We have to catch the suspect.”
“Yeah, no.” Hank said as he steered the delirious android by the arm towards the clinics double doors and out to the parking lot. “We have a positive ID. Gavin and Nines are on it.”
Connor froze. “Gavin?” He squawked, alarmed.
“And Nines.” Hank repeated as he opened the passenger side door of his car. “Get in.”
Connor remained rooted to the spot, albeit unsteady. “It’s our case.” He protested, angrily. “Gavin can’t take our case! He’ll fuck it all up!”
Hank tried not to react to the foreign sound of the curse leaving Connor’s lips. The technician was right; Connor really was irritable. Hank hadn’t seen this kind of temper in all the months he had lived and worked with the android. He was usually so calm and collected, even though it was a façade some of the time. “Nines won’t let him fuck up.” Hank said, firmly. “You trust Nines, right?”
Connor glared at him, though the effect was dampened by the fact that his pupils were blown wide. Androids really had all the little details down, huh? “Yes.”
“Good. So we can leave it all to him, ok? Now get in the fucking car.”
The ride home was uneventful. Connor was silent, and Hank was glad. The kid had been insufferable from the moment the beam had collided with his head. But by the time Hank pulled into the driveway, his earlier concern was back.
“You alright there, kid?” He asked. Connor turned his head slowly to face the lieutenant’s general direction and stared absently ahead, not quite meeting his eyes.
“It hurts.” He mumbled, his hand coming up to gingerly poke at the wound on his forehead. The gash in the plastic had knitted itself together, but its stark whiteness was still on show. If Hank watched closely, he could see small pixels glitching over the area, his skin programme no doubt trying to reactivate itself over the damaged site.
“I’m not surprised. You took quite the blow.” That was an understatement, at best. Hank could have sworn his heart had stopped as the plank came into contact with Connor’s head. The kid was going to be the death of him. “Why don’t we go inside and watch a movie while we wait for your healing programme to sort itself out, yeah?”
Or at least, he hoped it would. He was beginning to worry that Ron had fed them lies in an attempt to get them out of his office faster, the bastard.
Connor grimaced as he blinked sluggishly. “I want to go into rest mode.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Hank wasn’t sure just how similar android concussions were to human ones, but he wasn’t too keen on the thought of Connor sleeping in his current state. “Just stay awake until the headache goes away, okay?”
Connor didn’t look too thrilled at the prospect, but he looked too tired to argue. “Alright.” He agreed, with a heavy sigh.
“Good man.” Hank praised.
He helped Connor into the house with a steady arm slung around the android’s shoulders. He tried to call Sumo off when the hound came bounding up to greet them, but Connor stretched out a hand for him to sniff none the less.
By the time Connor had changed into comfortable clothes and collapsed heavily onto the sofa, he looked completely wiped out, but he kept his eyes open. Hank breathed a sigh of relief.
“Here.” He said. He held out a bag of frozen peas. Connor just stared at it, completely bewildered. Hank just snorted and placed the bag against the exposed plastic on Connor’s forehead. “For the pain.” He clarified. “I don’t know if it will actually help you, but there’s no harm in trying.”
“Thank you.” Connor mumbled as he took the bag and held it against the injury himself. Hank grunted his acknowledgement and slumped down on the sofa next to him.
“So what do you wanna watch?” He asked as he grabbed the remote from the coffee table and began to scroll down their list of options. “And don’t say ‘Airbud’, because I swear to God I can quote that damn movie word for word.”
Connor opened his mouth and then abruptly closed it again as if that was exactly what he was going to suggest. Instead he shrugged. “I don’t mind.” He said.
Hank shook his head. “Nah, you know the rules. Whoever’s feeling the shittiest gets to pick the movie. Choose.”
Connor glanced up and met Hank’s unrelenting stare. Eventually he sighed as his lips quirked up into an attempt at a smirk.
“I choose Airbud.” He said, a shit eating grin fighting its way across his face.
Hank sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. If Connor was playing around with him, he was obviously beginning to feel better, which eased a weight in Hank’s chest. Still, they had a little while to go yet.
“Alright.” Hank agreed reluctantly. “Airbud it is.”
Connor smirked, and through his exhaustion, he looked pretty proud of himself. Hank just chuckled fondly as he hit play on the remote.
Instead of watching the movie, Hank pulled out his phone and began to scroll idly though his emails. There was only so many times he could watch a dog play basketball, he didn’t understand how Connor could watch one movie so many times. But it made the android happy, so Hank didn’t complain.
As the movie progressed, Connor began to lean more and more heavily into Hank’s side, and he payed it no mind. By the time the credits began to roll, Connor’s head was rested on the lieutenant’s shoulder as he bonelessly sagged into his side, and it wasn’t long before the androids breathing began to slow; he had fallen asleep. Hank let him. The kid was exhausted and he was pretty sure Connor wasn’t in danger anymore. He locked his phone with a sigh, and turned his head to the side to find his nose pressed into Connor’s hair. Connor really did look human when he was asleep; the overly stiff posture he always wore leaked away and his expression relaxed into one of peace, not forced neutrality. The only thing giving him away was his LED, which sleepily pulsed yellow as Connor’s systems were under repair. Hank couldn’t help but smile fondly.
Slowly and carefully, Hank got to his feet. He caught the side of Connor’s head as it began to fall limply to the side without its support and guided the top half of Connor’s body down onto the couch so he was laying on his side. Hank picked up one of the couch cushions which had been knocked hastily to the floor and crouched down by Connor’s head and gently lifted it off the couch so he could slip the pillow underneath. Afterward he picked up the android’s legs one by one and lay them on the couch in a more comfortable position. He grabbed the throw which they had been resting against moments before and shook it out before laying it over Connor’s still body.
Through this, Connor barely stirred. Only when Hank was done did he nuzzle into the pillow beneath him and let out a heavy but content sigh.
“Let’s let him rest, eh, boy?” He whispered, scratching Sumo behind the ears, who had trotted over to his side. Sumo gazed up at him with his dopey eyes as if in agreement.
Hank let himself flop into the armchair and Sumo lay down on the floor next to him. He quickly switched the TV to mute and turned it over to a basketball game.
He took one last glance over at Connor before settling back in the recliner to watch the game, just as his LED flickered over to blue. Hank smiled. He’d be fine.